Tag: Prayer

“PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW – THE GREY DOG” By Tony Casson

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‘My’ bus finally rolled into the station and those holding tickets were all standing in line, waiting to board. I was not the only one who had been anticipating an earlier departure. The bus seemed larger from the outside than I had remembered, but once on board I became aware that what I was seeing was an optical illusion. While the exterior graphics package was a newer, updated version from the one I remembered, the interior actually seemed smaller than I recalled from times past. This, too, may have been an illusion, but the feeling of closeness on a full ‘Grey Dog’ indicates otherwise, and this ‘Dog’ was full of ‘fleas’!

None of that mattered however, as the predominant thought in my mind was that we were finally underway and I was going to be moving farther and farther from Oakdale with each passing minute. The entire undertaking was accompanied by a numbness of my senses that would prove to be a prelude to the numbness my rear-end would experience as the hours wore on. Still, as the ‘Grey Dog’ began its run towards Mobile, Alabama, I was acutely aware that the future had begun.

My traveling ‘companion’ for the first 8 hours or so was a short woman of Hispanic origin who was probably around 50. She did not speak English but required some assistance with her carryon luggage at each stop where we were required to leave the bus for 30 – 60 minutes. Those stops included Baton Rouge and New Orleans, with her final destination being Mobile. She was quiet, but pleasant, and offered me money for helping her. I declined, so she wrote her name and phone # on a piece of paper instead. As I had no phone, I had no number to give her, but I thanked her and did my best to explain. I made sure she got her bags from beneath the bus when she needed to do so and helped her get to a place where she could await those who were coming to pick her up in Mobile.

By the time we left Mobile, it was dark, and I was fortunate enough to be one of the first to board. I managed to get a window seat near the front of the bus. My next ‘companion’ was an attractive young woman named Mila (rhymes with vanilla). Most of the people who ride ‘The Dog’ look like people who ride ‘The Dog’.

Mila did not look like someone who rode ‘The Dog’. Before anyone asks, I cannot tell you what people who ride ‘The Dog’ should look like. You’d recognize them if you saw them.  I can only say that, as a rule, they don’t look like Mila.

There was also a young black couple on board who turned out to be a brother and sister who were traveling up into Georgia, and were changing buses in Atlanta. They had been on the bus since I first boarded it and were very well dressed, well mannered, and well spoken, and were traveling from one parent in the Houston area to visit the other parent in Columbia, Georgia. We exchanged pleasantries at each stop. Like Mila, they didn’t look like people who rode ‘The Dog’ regularly either. As it turned out, none of them had ever ridden a bus before, so if I am guilty of stereotyping, I guess I can at least say that I was good at it (hahaha).

Mila proved to be a very interesting young woman who was willing to spend time talking with an old man on a bus. When I asked where she was headed, she indicated she was traveling first to North Carolina to attend a wedding, then she was headed to Portland, Maine where she was going to intern for a state Senator. I told her about my connection to Maine (I was born there and had family there), and further discussion revealed that she had recently graduated from a Christian College in Pensacola. The course of the conversation ultimately revealed that she had been born in Romania and had been raised in Malaysia as a Muslim. She had converted to Christianity at 14, so I asked her about the difficulty that I assumed accompanied being a Christian in a predominately Muslim part of the world. Mila was very intelligent, open, and willing to talk about God, and was the perfect traveling companion (No offense to Olga, my little Hispanic friend).

I admit here that I mislead her about where I was headed and why. I was reluctant to tell her that I had just been released from prison. I did tell her I was headed to Washington, D.C. to live in a Mission, but I sort of led her to believe that I was going there to work, as opposed to going there to live until I could reassemble my much disassembled life. I did show her my copy of my book, “TODAY IS….A Gift From God” and I think she might have examined the back cover where I mentioned being incarcerated, but if she noticed, she didn’t say anything. More than likely it was simple politeness on her part.

Before I boarded my next bus, I saw her standing off to the side smoking a cigarette. I wrote down the address to these “Chronicles” and called her over. I gave it to her and asked her to check it out.

Perhaps she will even read these words. If she does, I hope she accepts my apology for any deception on my part. I was not intentionally trying to deceive for nefarious purposes, or out of any embarrassment or reluctance to discuss my experience and the reasons for the incarceration in the first place. In fact, had we had privacy, I probably would have told her as much as she wanted to hear, but the “Grey Dog” is not conducive to private conversations as we discovered by the interruptions into our conversation several times by a very colorful individual on his way to Washington as well. The conversation with Mila made the extreme tedium of the journey disappear. It was so nice to have pleasant, meaningful conversation with someone outside of the prison environment and I was glad to see I could still participate in such a ‘normal’ conversation.

As the night wore on, we both drifted off to sleep for a while. When we parted in the wee hours of the morning, I was sorry to see her go. We wished each other well, and I knew she would be difficult to ‘replace’ as a traveling partner. I was quickly proven right as my next ‘seatmate’ was a young man who chose headphones over conversation, which was fine, but it was also temporary as he was only next to me for a couple of stops. The crowd thinned out, and he would prove to be my last seatmate. As the morning dawned, I had a little more room to stretch out, and as we rolled into Charlotte, North Carolina the scenery had improved dramatically over Louisiana, Mississippi, and the southern part of Alabama that I could see before darkness had consumed the scenery.

Charlotte was home to my first really scrumptious ‘free world’ food. A black man who, by his girth looked like he really enjoyed food, recommended the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on Texas toast prepared in the little grill located in a corner of the bus station. Fresh, hot, and made to order, it was truly a thing of wonder. I love a good breakfast sandwich and this one was exceptional.

There still remained about 8-10 hours till we arrived in Richmond, Virginia, but the countryside was beautiful, the weather was gorgeous, and freedom was in the air!

I saw some lovely towns and cities throughout North Carolina and into Virginia. Since the bus was not an express, we sort of took the long way around, but in the end it was worth it.

The entire trip was about 32 hours, and by the time we rolled into Richmond at 7 PM the day after my release from Oakdale, the entirety of my derriere felt like it had been injected with Novocain. Those reading this may find that amusing, but I kid you not: My rear-end was numb, and it was a numbness that did not completely wear off for 3 days!

Seeing my sister in the bus depot in Richmond was one of the most welcome sights I have ever experienced. We hugged and left the station to the comfort of her Volvo crossover. We chatted for a few minutes as we left the city and headed north towards Lorton, where she lives, and then I used her cell phone to call Anthony, my son. To not have the call introduced by a mechanical voice saying, “This call is from Tony Casson, an inmate at a federal prison” was something I had anticipated for a long time. To not be reminded twice during the call that “This call is from a federal prison” was something I had also anticipated. And to not have the call terminated at the end of 15 minutes was priceless! We hung up when we were done talking and it was over 30 minutes before that occurred.

I missed my friends already, but I was thoroughly enjoying the stimulation of my senses by all of the different sights, sounds, and smells that accompany freedom.

There are not enough pages, nor am I in possession of enough talent, to ever adequately describe to you all that I thought about, saw, and felt during my first 36 hours of freedom. I can tell you this much, however: Whether or not that was my last run as a ‘flea’ on the “Grey Dog” or not, there will never be another bus ride which will mean as much to me as that one.

That ride carried me from the place God trained me to be for a little over four years, and delivered me to where He wanted me to be for the next phase of my life of service to Him. The unpleasantness of the physical discomfort of the trip itself is nothing when compared to the opportunities to serve God and glorify His name that I was being directed to.

Those left behind may think they are forgotten, but they are not. They are in my thoughts, my prayers and are a part of many discussions I have. God leads me and guides my steps as I work to help people around me now, but the men I left behind are an indelible part of who I am, how I think, and they will remain a part of my life.

I have written in the past in these “Chronicles” about the ability of our faith in God to allow us to be free no matter where we are, and those words still stand. For me, it was the “perfect prison experience”, and I had never been as free in my mind and my spirit as I was in Oakdale.

I carry that freedom with me into ‘the free world’ and I will use it to help me to fully appreciate the physical freedom of being on this side of the razor-wire. I will ask God on a daily basis to help me remember what Paul had to say about freedom in the Book of Galatians in the Holy Bible: “For you have been called to live in freedom, my brothers and sisters. But don’t use your freedom to satisfy your sinful nature. Instead, use your freedom to serve one another in love.” (Galatians 5:13 NLT)

This responsibility Paul speaks about, “to serve one another in love”, is something that can prevent most of the things which cause men and women to go to prison in the first place, from ever happening.

Think about that.

For now, I am ‘dog’ tired. God bless you all and may He keep you and your families safe. I will be writing more on my experiences as time goes on, but I need to get these articles done and posted.

“PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW – A CHANGE OF SCENERY” By Tony Casson

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I didn’t sleep very well the night before my release (go figure). Poor Pete – my ‘cellie’ – was undoubtedly aware of my tossing and turning, to say nothing of my somewhat boisterous and frequent release of gas (nervous anticipation plus cabbage for lunch combined with that chili for the last supper equals, well, you get the idea). I’m not sure that ‘nervous’ is an accurate descriptive phrase, though. It was more a case of being flat out eager to meet the future and step out of the time capsule I had inhabited for 4 years, one month, and 20 days. I was excited to get a chance to demonstrate to everyone who was interested – be they incarcerated or ‘free’ – the full power of God to change us when we invite Him into our hearts and totally submit to His will. I was also chomping at the bit to put my faith in the Lord to work beyond the constraints of the fences and razor wire.

Finally, after bouncing up and down all night, looking out the window of our cell door, and praying, praying, praying for patience, our cells were unlocked about 5:10 AM. I took my last shower in the showers I had cleaned for 2 years as my second ‘job’ in the prison, finished getting ready, and looked around the 7’x11’ space I had occupied for the previous 4+ years, over 3 ½ of them with Pete as my roommate.

My locker had been emptied by the end of the previous evening, my little mesh carryon bag was ready to go, and I went downstairs to find a couple of people waiting for me that one normally would never expect to see at that time of day: “Big Bad Billy Bo-land” (ok, he really prefers to be called Brandon, he’s not real big, although he does need to lose some weight, and he’s not what I would consider bad at all; I just made that name up for its alliterative value and because it was very ‘prison’ sounding) and Stanley, my very first prison ‘cellie’, had made a special effort to get up and see me on my way. It was a gesture which was greatly appreciated. Due to an unforeseen power outage related to exterior security, we were subjected to an ‘emergency’ lockdown the night before, a full 30 minutes earlier than normal. Because of this, I had not completed my ‘rounds’ of farewells. I did not get to see Joseph, David, Brian, Dan, and several others for that one last time and I felt bad about it, but didn’t feel I should go around waking everyone up. Perhaps they will read these words and know that I wanted to tell them ‘goodbye’. They should all also know they will all be on my mind, and in my prayers.

Emotions ran high that morning, as they had the previous evening. When one asks God to help them use the experience of incarceration in a positive manner, the act of leaving becomes bittersweet. Powerful bonds were formed over the months and years, and it is difficult to describe the conflicting emotions at work within us all. In spite of the emotions involved and the love that develops out of positive relationships in prison, the time does come when the door opens for each person and that person must go. There is no putting it off. No delays are allowed. The call comes for an individual to go to Receiving & Discharge (R&D) and off you go.

The call came for me at about 6:15 AM and I said a few hurried, absolutely final farewells, and proceeded to walk through the compound, barely able to resist the urge to run. (There is no running on the compound, unless it is on the rec yard, but believe me, the urge WAS there!). Reluctance to leave was quickly turning into a need to leave. It was rapidly turning into focus on the enormity of the impending event. It was a very surreal moment and I felt as if I were merely skimming along the surface of the ground. In a few minutes, the BOP would be through with me, and I with them, and I would be on my way.

I arrived at the door and was dismayed that no one was standing there, holding it open, smiling in happiness over my release. OK, so that is not exactly true. I didn’t expect anyone to really care and I was not disappointed. The actual processing only took a few minutes. I discovered that a promise to pay me for the work I had done from the 1st through the 16th, along with the bonus my unit manager had indicated I would get as a parting ‘gift’, was not fulfilled. This was not financially devastating, but it was just one more thing to add to the pile of ‘things’ that made one wonder about the character, integrity, competence, and level of professionalism of the staff. In addition, there was a certified copy of my birth certificate and a new social security card in my file in my case manager’s office which I assumed would be given me, so I inquired about it. I was met with the response, “Didn’t you ask your case manager for it?” I could only respond with, “This is the first time I have ever been released from prison. How would I even know to ask? Shouldn’t it have simply been given to me?” I wrote down my sister’s address in Virginia and asked if he would please see to it that they were sent. In all fairness, I must say he was good to his word as they were actually received about 5 days later.

Lt. James was the lieutenant on duty, so he had to come make sure they were releasing the right person. He shook my hand and wished me luck. No one had shaken my hand for 4 years, leaving me to think staff was afraid they were going to catch something. Perhaps they would have caught something, but it would have been more along the lines of something called professionalism, respect, and raising people up. He also wished me luck and walked me out to the building I had entered on April Fools’ Day, 2010. They went through one last ‘verification’ procedure and then someone pointed me to a white Ford Ranger idling in the parking lot, and I went out the door. That act was every bit as surreal as entering the building 4 years earlier, but in a very, very, very good way!

No one stopped me, called me back, or paid me any further attention. The only person interested in me now was the inmate from the camp next door whose job it was to deliver me to the bus station in Lafayette. The bus station was about 90 minutes away and I was looking forward to whatever scenery the surrounding countryside would afford me. It proved to be a very pleasant trip through piney woods and fields used for growing cotton and rice. The inmate driving the pickup truck was ‘short’ as well, having only 23 days left before his own release.

My excitement built as we drew closer to the point from which my ‘journey’ would officially begin. The camp inmate’s final task was to escort me into the building and make sure I purchased a ticket (non-refundable) for the correct destination. I had prepared my sister for picking me up at the bus station in Richmond, Va. based upon the departure time of the 9:15 AM bus, but that bus was sold out. I had to purchase a ticket for the next one, which didn’t leave till about 1:30 PM, leaving me several hours to kill, and a problem to solve: How to notify Kathy, since there were no pay phones in or around the station, and I had no cell phone, of course. I asked the inmate if he would notify the officers back in Oakdale and he said, “They don’t care. They are done with you. You’re someone else’s problem now.

And with that, he was gone.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, control of my life had been handed back to me. For sure, it was not an absolute “I-am-in-charge-of-my-own-destiny” type of control. After all, I was expected to board the bus and report to my Probation Officer within 72 hours, but the control I did have was of mammoth proportions when compared with the lack of control I had had as an inmate at Oakdale FCI.

I had the same control over my life I had when I was expected to self-surrender 4 years earlier: I could not do what was expected of me if I so decided! I could run! I could flee! Fortunately, the time I had spent in Oakdale taught me many things, and high up on the list was the fact that I had spent a good portion of my life ‘fleeing’. It took some work, but I finally figured out that it was myself I was always running from, and no matter how hard I tried, I had never been able to escape me. Wherever in the vastness of this country I wound up, I was always there. Besides, fleeing would set the U.S. Marshalls upon me and I didn’t want to wind up facing Tommy Lee Jones in a storm drain trying to convince him I was a good person with him telling me that he didn’t care.

Nope, the best thing to do would be to figure out a way to call Kathy and let her know of the change in schedule, and proceed as planned. I wandered around in downtown Lafayette for a while searching fruitlessly for a payphone, and I finally gave up and walked back to the station. The man behind the desk told me to ask people to use their cell phone, but I felt really awkward about that. I finally got up the nerve to ask a friendly looking Hispanic man, and he turned me down. I have written about my past experiences with rejection, and I began to get a little tense, but I prayed silently (really, really prayed!) and tried another man who thought I was going to ask for a smoke at first, but gladly let me use his phone. I left Kathy a message, since it was only to be expected that she wouldn’t be available to answer. She called back right away, though, and he handed me the phone as soon as he saw it was a number he didn’t recognize. I gave her the new info, we chatted for a few moments, and then I hung up. I was considerably more relaxed now, and spent some time talking to the man whose phone I had borrowed. He worked on offshore oil rigs and had just come in for his shore time.

Many people wanted to know what the first thing I was going to eat was. What we envision and what constitutes reality are often two different things, as I have come to learn, and accept. What I wanted was unimportant. I actually went to a Burger King near the bus station and ordered a couple of breakfast sandwiches and a carton of milk. One of the sandwiches was the wrong thing, and the first mouthful of “ultra-pasteurized’ milk carrying an expiration date of a full month in the future was sour. Flat out spoiled. Maybe they weren’t aware that even though it was ‘ultra’ pasteurized, it still required refrigeration.

Welcome to the free world. Still, all things considered, it was the best-tasting sour milk I’d had in 4 years, and there had been plenty in Oakdale.

There wasn’t much I could do beyond watching the minutes, and the people, pass as I waited to board the bus that would take me miles away from here. I did buy a hot dog off of a cart outside the station as it got closer to noon, but I didn’t wander very far even though I knew when the bus was coming and could have gone exploring. I felt rather conspicuous in my cheap blue jeans and white golf shirt issued by the prison. It seemed as if I had this big sign on my forehead that announced who I was, where I had been, and the reason.

I began to pray in earnest for the patience to be calm, to be strong, and to be content. It would take all of that, and more, because my time was coming, and I hadn’t ridden on the bus in over 30 years. Like it had done me, time had changed the “Grey Dog” as well.

“LETTERS TO HEAVEN – THE LAST PRISON LETTER, MOM!” by Tony Casson

On By Tony CassonIn Letters to Heaven2 Comments

“LETTERS TO HEAVEN –

THE LAST PRISON LETTER, MOM!”

Dear Mom,

It has been some time since I last wrote you. For this I apologize, but letters to you are not simple things. Bringing you to the forefront of my thoughts like this always carries with it a certain amount of personal discomfort that must be dealt with. Even though I do think of you often, the more focused effort of putting pen to paper always causes me to reflect in greater detail on your life, and it is impossible for me to do that without also considering the pain and suffering I contributed TO that life.

I am certain you are overjoyed to see the person God has shown me I am capable of being begin to emerge. My knowledge of the depth of love you had for your children and your capacity for kindness to every single person you ever met easily overcomes any misguided fear I might have that you would harbor any ill-will or resentment toward me for the way I lived my life or for the sleepless nights, heartache, and tears I caused you to suffer. Still, I am uncomfortable writing letters to you on a small metal desk in a cold, unfriendly cell, located in a prison where I was placed for a crime that should never have occurred in the first place.

Had I thought about you in the past as much as I do now, and in the same manner, I would never have allowed myself to stop caring about the condition of my soul to the degree I did. Had I thought of you more, I would have seen that your ability to love and to smile came from your relationship with God. I would have been able to reason that your unselfish, kind and compassionate attitude also came from Him, and perhaps I would have looked to God long ago and avoided that final turn onto the road which almost led me to self-destruction.

Be that as it may, I know these things now, Mom, and I just want to say, “Thank you.” You see, I have also come to understand that God did exactly as you had prayed for Him to do for so many years, although perhaps not in the time-frame you might have preferred. His reasons for waiting until I was almost drained of life before He opened my eyes and allowed me to see what I needed to do in order to receive His help are very clear to me now. God wanted me to arrive at the point where I completely and totally hated the evil I had allowed to control my life. He waited for me to become that which I needed to learn to despise. When I struck out at myself in rage, He allowed me to come very close to achieving my objective of killing the one person who was causing me so much pain before He let me see those precious words that brought Him to my rescue: “God, please forgive me.” In His infinite wisdom, He knew I needed to see for myself how quickly He comes to those who call Him in order that I would know it was HE who saved me. Once I gave up on myself and put my Hope in Him, He knew I would then change the course of my life and decide to live to show others that THEIR Hope lies in Him as well.

So again, I say, “Thank you. Thank you for your prayers on my behalf, and for never giving up Hope.”

The One who gave you the ability to give ME my life, stood by and suffered great pain watching me struggle with myself. How it must have hurt Him as He watched me try desperately to kill the evil within myself. I believe you stood with Him at that lowest point in my life here on earth, tearfully crying to Him, “Father, save my son! Please, save my son!”

In spite of His own great personal pain, He would have placed His arms around you and quietly said, “Be patient, my child, his suffering is almost over.” Despite that reassurance from God Himself, I can only imagine the panic you must have felt as you watched me slipping closer and closer to death. You knew we would never see each other again unless I gave up and finally opened my mouth to ask God for His help. You knew that unless I asked for His forgiveness, I would be lost for all of eternity to the evil I had allowed to consume me, and which I was trying to eliminate by killing myself.

They say the pain of childbirth is indescribably, excruciatingly, blindingly intense, but how much more so the pain must be to watch a child who is about to pass through the gates of Hell. I cannot help but think of Ryan Loskarn’s parents and the pain they must live with on a daily basis following his suicide.* Those of us who attempt it or who succeed at ending our lives are not selfish, contrary to what many people think and despite the fact we are definitely not thinking of others at that moment. Those who would disagree fail to grasp the obvious: We are not thinking of ourselves either. We are simply trying to kill the pain that we have allowed to consume us by not turning to God for the comfort and strength we need to overcome that pain.

Having been fortunate enough to have been saved from myself by God, Ryan’s death brought home to me the truth of the devastating blow that would have been dealt to those I would have left behind. Even though we can grow to hate something we have allowed to grow within us, there are those who love us in spite of those things who deserve the opportunity to help us: Our Mothers and Fathers; our children; our siblings and our friends. Foremost among those who love us and wants to help us is God. I shudder to think of how my own story almost ended. I am so very, very grateful to God for saving me, and I pray that He provides some form of comfort to those who witnessed the tragic ending to Ryan’s story and will live the rest of their lives with those things they loved about him absent from their lives.

Are children worth all the trouble they cause, Mom?  Are we really worth the tears, the pain, the frustration, and the worry? Can we ever make up for the sleepless nights we have caused? For the anger our actions give rise to? Can we possibly make up for the things we have said and done in the thoughtlessness of our youth? Are we worth the pain we inflict on those around us when we act in self-destructive ways, foolishly thinking our lives are the only ones affected by our actions?

God thinks so, and I know you always did too, Mom. You would never even consider giving up on one of your children; not for a moment would you withdraw what you could always give to each one in equal measure: Your love, and your prayers. And that love and those prayers paid off, don’t you think? After all, hasn’t our great God done some pretty amazing work within the heart and mind of THIS child? For four years**, He has patiently directed, guided, corrected, counseled, consoled, taught, loved, and inspired me. For four years, He has helped me to find self-forgiveness for allowing myself to become someone I did not know and could not love. For four years He has shown me I can help myself by reaching out to others to try to help THEM. For four years He has pointed me in the direction He has wanted me to go, and for four years He has said to me, “THIS is who I want you to be!”

And now, after those four years, I am prepared to leave this place. After those four years, I am eager to show the world what God will lovingly do for us when we give Him our lives: He gives them back to us. He makes us NEW.

God HAS given me my life back, Mom. In gratefully accepting it from Him, I have looked to Him and said, “I want to live it for you, but I need you to show me how.” In response, He has shown me He has a plan for me. It is a plan for a future full of Hope. It is a plan of service to Him by doing something I was never capable of doing before: Looking out for other people. I am eager to leave this place and continue to work for the future God has planned for me. I say ‘continue’ to work on the plan, because I have been working on God’s plan for the future since the day I walked through the doors that locked behind me 4 years ago.

Soon I will be rejoining the society I was removed from as a result of my actions. Soon I will walk amongst ‘decent’ people, many of whom will shy away from me when they learn of my past. While trying to move forward, there will always be those who will want to point behind me and ask, “How could you?”

How could I? A fair question, indeed.

Recently, I was asked that question by someone you know, Mom, and since there are others who seek to make sense of the senseless, I have decided to respond to that request here.

There are two parts to the answer. The first is quite complex and is one I addressed in an article posted in these pages on April 18, 2013. That article was titled ‘unspoken‘, and it contained a ‘speech’ that I would give to young people of high school age, if I were allowed to do so. In that ‘speech’, I did my best to retrace the footsteps which brought me to this prison. The first of those footsteps was taken when I was quite young. After reading the rest of this article, I urge those who have not done so to go back and take the time to read ‘unspoken’.

I will offer the second part of my answer knowing ahead of time that there will be many who will not be satisfied with the answer’s simplicity. I will pray people will consider what I say not only in the context of the possession of child pornography charge which brought me to this place I am about to leave, but in the much larger context of the problems which exist in all of our lives, and in the world as a whole.

I have learned, Mom, that we become capable of behavior that is beneath us as children of God when we fail to follow the lessons taught by Jesus Christ. These lessons are quite simple and can be found in the Holy Bible, of course. Granted, the Bible itself appears to be a very complex book. Indeed, there is a tremendous amount of complexity available to keep thousands upon thousands of theologians and biblical scholars busy, but for the rest of us, the Bible can be viewed in a very simple manner: It is a journey taking us from the perfect beginning of the world, to the perfection of its end. Along the way, we are made privy to those places where mankind has failed. We are shown how we have failed God; how we have failed each other; and we are shown how God offered us salvation by sending His only begotten Son to die on the cross for us and wash away our sins with His blood. The death of Jesus gave us all Hope for a perfect ending to our lives here on earth, but it was Christ’s LIFE that demonstrated how we are to act while we are alive.

The Pharisees were one of two major religious groups during the time of Christ. While they did believe in the resurrection of the body and eternal life, they disregarded God’s message of grace and mercy while believing that salvation came through observance to the law and NOT through the forgiveness of sin. The message Christ brought with Him contradicted the Pharisees, so they set out to discredit Him in any way they could because they did not believe – or did not WANT to believe – He was the long-awaited Messiah.  Obedience to God IS important, as Jesus teaches us time and time again. One such time was when the Pharisees tried to trap Him by asking what the most important commandment was in the Law of Moses. Christ’s answer to the Pharisees forms the basis for my answer to the question, “How could you?”

“Jesus replied, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all of your heart, with all your soul, and all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: Love your neighbor as yourself. The entire law and all of the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.'” (Matthew 22:37-40 NLT)

So here is the answer:

When we love God in the manner described by Jesus Christ, we discover the ability to love ourselves, thereby allowing us to love those around us. When we love God, ourselves, and those around us, we are too busy thinking about others in positive ways to ever consider hurting them, or ourselves, in any of the many ways we do when that love is absent.

See, Mom? I told you it was simple.

But how many will actually allow themselves to see the truth residing in that simplicity? Obviously, there is more to the stories of our lives than that, but the reason those stories develop in the complex manner they do begins when God is absent from our lives in the first place. Those who need the whole complicated, detailed story can read the article I mentioned earlier. Actually, I wish everyone WOULD read it, because it demonstrates what happens when we fail to do what Jesus instructed us to do.

The short version is this: I failed to love God, and accept HIS love. Instead, I worshipped the gods of alcohol, drugs, sex, and pornography. Certainly millions of others do the same thing daily, but I offer that fact merely as a very sad commentary on the condition of the world in which we live today. I do not use the behavior of others to make excuses for mine. My own particular failure went an unfortunate and despicable final step beyond what is ‘normal’ and for that I am profoundly sorry. However, had I not taken that FIRST step, I never would have taken the LAST one, and the first step was taken because I didn’t heed the simple instructions of the One who died a horrible death hanging on a cross so I could have free access to God: “Love the Lord your God with all of your heart, with all of your soul, and with all of your mind.”

All I can say, Mom, is that something has gone seriously wrong in a society where bad behavior, inappropriateness, immaturity, immorality, self-indulgence and selfishness are proudly displayed in public while the belief in, and love of, God has become something most seem only willing to acknowledge on Sunday, and more out of obligation than any real love FOR God. The one thing we should all hold up for others as the only way to live our lives seems to have become a source of embarrassment for many. We ‘kinda sorta’ want to be seen as believing in God, but not really. We don’t actually want to LIVE the way God wants us to live. Doing that requires too much of a commitment and life today offers too many choices we would NOT be able to make if we made such a commitment to God.

Our government doesn’t help because God is constantly being shoved to the back of the bus in a new twist on segregation in America today. Additionally, the American public seems quite adept at criticizing this nation’s leaders for everything they do except when they provide us with more ways, and more rights, with which to live immoral and indecent lives; lives where our own instant gratification is the goal and easing the pain of those around us is something we are only motivated to do when we can conveniently text a donation after a devastating natural disaster. Indeed, our government actually has become one of the biggest enemies Jesus Christ has ever faced, which is odd for a country founded with religious freedom as one of its cornerstones. For those who are opening their mouths to object, kid yourselves not: the religious freedoms guaranteed in this nation’s Constitution were based more on the way we expressed our belief in Jesus Christ than in our freedom to believe in other gods or nothing at all. This being America, we are all free to believe in what we want to believe, of course, but following the words of Jesus Christ can certainly NOT cause anyone any harm and CAN heal, protect, and propel us to heights of care and concern for others which help to prevent the stories of peoples’ lives from ending in disaster.

It really is just that simple. I’m not sure why we have difficulty accepting simplicity unless it is in the plot lines of the latest reality show. One of the books I read during my time here was written by a professor from Baylor University named Byron Johnson and was titled “More God, Less Crime”. Duh. How much simpler do you want it?

Well, Mom, I think I am about finished here. I have answered the question “How could you?” to the best of my ability. If what has been offered isn’t sufficient, there is little I can do. I have accepted the forgiveness of God, and I have forgiven myself. Additionally, I have paid the price imposed by the justice system of this country. From this point forward, all I can do is try to heed the words of Jesus Christ when he told the woman who had been caught committing adultery, “Go and sin no more.” (John 8:11 NLT)

Jesus refused to condemn her, and He refuses to condemn me as well. If others choose to condemn me, well, they can explain themselves to God later on. For myself, all I know is God has given me a NEW life, and He shows me daily what to do with it and how to live it. I am proceeding with my eyes on Jesus Christ, and I am very, very grateful.

I love you and I apologize again for not writing sooner. I have some packing to do so I can be ready to leave***. I’ll catch you on the other side, Mom!

No, silly, not in Heaven (at least, not just yet); I meant, on the other side of the prison fence!

May God bless all who have put up with me for these 4 years. The years have meant a lot to me, and I can honestly say I tried to do something positive with them. My prayer is that they meant something to all of you as well. This is NOT the end of these “Chronicles”, by the way. You can’t get rid of me that easily!

*******

(* Ryan Loskarn’s story can be found in earlier articles titled “The Something I Didn’t Do“, and “An Open Letter To The Parents Of Ryan Loskarn“)

(**I self-surrendered on April 1, 2010)

(***I will be released on May 20, 2014)

Please check out the print version of my book, “TODAY IS… A Gift From God” at (https://www.createspace.com/4718409 ). The writing of it helped me, and I pray the reading of it can do the same for you. If you have a loved one in prison, please send them a copy. It just might make a difference.

“LETTERS TO HEAVEN – DISBANDED BROKEN BROTHERS” by Tony Casson

On By Tony CassonIn Letters to Heaven1 Comment

Dear God,

I have an important task before me and I come to you for help. Since You are the One who orchestrated the situation in the first place, asking You for help dealing with the situation as it prepares to change seems appropriate. Although I am learning to come to You first in ALL things, I do so now with extremely acute sensitivity to what You will guide my heart to do.

The judge who sentenced me recommended Butner, N.C. as my destination, but You saw things differently. You placed me in Oakdale because You had important things You wanted me to learn, and special people You wanted me to meet and learn from them.

There were four men in particular who were placed into my life here to help You shape me into a human being who can hold his head up high; who can speak openly and with enthusiasm about his love for You; who can freely discuss the issues causing his incarceration with the intent of helping others; and who can state with confidence the direction the rest of his life will take. You used the five of us, broken men all, to act as mirrors for each other that we may see ourselves in a new light, and from a different angle. You helped us work on what we saw until we could clearly see YOU looking back at us, reflected in ourselves.

Three of those individuals have left Oakdale FCI already.

Alan Steen was the first to leave. His case was overturned by the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans. Alan has returned to his wife and other family members in west Texas. Alan was the first to help me understand that following You was never going to be easy, but the rewards would be great and would be well worth the effort. He was the first, besides You and I, to know there was a book inside me called “TODAY IS….A Gift From God”, and he was the first to assure me that, with Your help, I would find the way to get it out. It is out, Alan, and for that, and many other reasons, I love you, my friend.

The second to leave was Rob from Virginia. I have never used his last name and there are reasons for that which do not need to be addressed here. They are his, and they all have to do with the tremendous services he performed for this country while in the Navy. Rob was the only one who lived in the same housing unit as I did, and we would meet a couple of times a week in my cell for one or two hours of the most amazing discussions about You, family, the things that brought us together, and ways of reaching beyond where we were when we came in here in order to become better men. Rob is back in Virginia finishing his sentence, but he is very close to home and he is in a Christian lifestyle program which I am certain is greatly enhanced by his presence. Robert, I love you, too, and I am happy you are close to your family now. I know you are all incredibly close and that speaks volumes about your character.

The third to leave did not go home either, but he is now in California, closer to HIS loved ones, and in an environment which seems to make him happy. This makes ME happy, because I love Steve Marshall, too, and when I leave here knowing he still has a couple of years to go, at least I will take with me the knowledge he is in a place better equipped to provide him with peace and some modicum of happiness. Steve is a man of incredible character in spite of the reasons he is incarcerated. He left here several months ago, but not before helping me to understand more about the art of writing (not that I have actually gotten better at it, but I do understand it…ha!). He also taught me about the ability of men to rise above others simply by being principled and honest. Our conversations were long and always insightful. He is an articulate, eloquent, deeply sensitive man with a lot to offer this world. He added a touch of dignity and class to our Toastmaster’s club and his presence and contributions are sorely missed. I consider Steve to be a lifelong friend, regardless of the fact we will likely never meet again.

This brings us to the fourth, and final individual and the important task I referenced when I began this letter to You, Lord. Richard Roy left Oakdale yesterday, and I ask You now to help me find the right words to convey exactly how important this man has been in my life. Richard is unique to our little ‘group’ in that he was the only one who was always close to home. As he was from Baton Rouge it was possible for him to have regular visits with his wife, daughters, mother, father, and other family members. I met Alan first, but Richard was in Alan’s housing unit and it was actually through Alan I met him.

Lord, I know in my heart this entire experience has been orchestrated by You from the beginning. Some of those reading these words may find my next statement quite odd, but by placing me in the middle of nowhere; by surrounding me with the men You did; and by paying attention to the tiniest of details, You have made this an unbelievably perfect prison experience. Add Diane Woodall to this Band of Broken Brothers and the result is simply astounding. There will be those who will be certain I have gone stark raving mad, but I stand by those words. We are all better people for the relationships YOU engineered. We all took FROM one another, and we all gave TO one another. This entire event could only have happened at Your direction and those who would laugh the entire thing off as coincidence simply do NOT know YOU!

I thank you, Lord, for the gift of each of these men. In particular, I humbly thank you for the gift of Richard Roy. Not too long ago, I wrote about how you had blessed me when you placed Diane Woodall in my life. I wrote that she had become the best friend I have ever had. I meant that with all of my heart, but she is going to have to share that distinction with Richard, and I doubt she will mind. The relationship with these two people is a miniscule example of the mind-boggling power You possess. It is proof of Your ability to love us in spite of ourselves, and give us exactly what we need, provided we have the sense to ask You to do that for us.

I listed a variety of functions Diane performed as the ‘cost’ of being a friend of mine. Richard’s list is long as well, and includes pushing me, prodding me, encouraging me, advising me, editing me, and critiquing me (I didn’t always handle that well, did I, my friend?). Richard talked to me about You, and he listened to me as I tested the waters of becoming bolder in the way I spoke about You. We shared tears of joy and tears of sorrow. We laughed and dreamed, and we shared fears, hopes, and deeply personal thoughts.

Contrary to what society as a whole may think, be told, or be led to believe, there are some great men residing in this nation’s prisons. While I certainly do not place myself in that category, I am humbly grateful to You, Lord, for enabling me to meet, and learn, from four of them. This country will probably shy away from the stain this experience will leave on their lives, but you and I know that is a tragedy in itself, because each and every one of them has tremendous value to offer. Rising above them all is Richard Roy. His voice should be heard for many reasons after he leaves here, and I pray You will use him to reach out and help others. There will be those who will scoff at the notion that people who have spent time in prison, particularly for ‘our’ crimes, can ever be viewed as ‘great’ men or used to achieve any purpose beneficial to society as a whole. To those who would consider themselves in that category, I will offer some startling examples of how You have done exactly that in the past.

Moses was a murderer, yet he led the Israelites out of Egypt. Why did You use him? Because You are God and You saw what others could not see.

King David coveted another’s wife and orchestrated the death of her husband so he could claim her as his own, yet You used him to become the greatest king the Israelites ever knew. He also taught the world how to rely upon You and praise You through the many Psalms he authored, and Jesus Christ was born of a woman married to a man who was a direct descendant of his. Why did You use this once greatly flawed man? Because You are God and You saw what others could not see.

You did the same thing with Jacob, who was a deceiver; Rahab, who was a prostitute; Paul, who persecuted Christians; and Matthew, who was a corrupt tax collector. These flawed individuals, and many more throughout history, have been used by You for great purposes because You are God and You saw what others could not see.

The world is missing out if it discounts Your ability to help once-broken men and women rise above their brokenness and emerge prepared to offer great things to the world. Richard Roy is a superb example of the work You can do in a person’s heart. His family and friends are not getting back someone they should be ashamed of. He is being returned to them as a man who has been greatly blessed by You; as a man who has found favor with You; a man You intend to use in other ways now that he has done all he can do for me. Richard, I love you. Thank you for giving of yourself so generously. I know I can be quite difficult. You gave me your friendship and it is a great gift! WE DID NOT WASTE OUR MISTAKES!

We may be the Disbanded Broken Brothers, but as Your children, Lord, we are brothers all. I have seen Your power at work in the human spirit and it is awesome. I thank You, Lord, for Alan, Rob, Steve, and Richard. I am thankful BEYOND words that You have returned Richard to his family!

I requested your help and you provided it, as You always do. Thank you for the sacrifice of Your Son, Jesus Christ, who died so that men like us can find new hope, new life, and an eternity in Your presence.

AMEN

TODAY’S GIFT by Tony Casson

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Time for another excerpt from the upcoming book, “Today Is….A Gift From God.” Today’s devotional is from December 25.

TODAY IS…

an awesome day to thank God for the greatest gift of all.

“Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord.”  Luke 2:11 NIV

As the title of this book reminds us, each day is A Gift From God. The days of our lives are precious, each and every one. They hold out promise and hope. The days of our lives are among the most valuable of all gifts that God gives us, and there are many, as the devotionals in this book have attempted to demonstrate.

But the most precious gift ever given by the One who gave us this world in which to live, and our very lives with which to enjoy it, was the gift of His Son Jesus Christ, the One whose birth would change the world forever.

Zechariah used these beautiful words to describe the gift that the world would soon be given: “Because of God’s tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace.” (Luke 1:79 NLT). The morning has broken, and it is surely a beautiful day!

Jesus came to occupy our hearts, but it is not a forced occupation. We must want Him there, and we must seek the light that He will shine upon those dark areas of our souls that we would like to say good-bye to. We must desire the life that will come when we learn the savior’s lessons that will teach us to die to ourselves. We must volunteer to serve and be willing to sacrifice all that we are and all that we have in order to receive all that He came to give.

Hopefully we are all aware that we must thank God each and every day for all of His grace, all of His love, and all of His mercy. But on this day that has been set aside to mark the arrival of the most valuable gift ever given, we must all be sure to give special thanks to God.

With this gift in our possession, we can feed those who are hungry, clothe those who are naked, house those who are homeless, and heal those who are sick. With this gift we can refuse to fall prey to the temptations of Satan and those he has corrupted on this earth. With this gift we can live in a significant manner and we can understand the concept of humble service to our brothers and sisters.

By accepting this remarkable, priceless gift of love, we can be better spouses, better parents, better friends, and better neighbors.

Let us all humbly, gratefully, joyfully, and tearfully accept this gift and say “Thank You” to Almighty God.

*******

“WITH EYES WIDE OPEN” by Tony Casson

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“Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there.” Galatians  5:34  NLT

“We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.”  Hebrews  12:2  NLT

“And this is freedom, this is freedom; This is freedom nailed to a tree.”                                Karyn Williams – “This Is Freedom”

Towards the end of her long life, the list of my Mother’s physical afflictions and limitations had grown quite long as well. She had a degenerative bone disease called “Paget’s”; a ‘spinal stenosis’ which plagued her with debilitating back pain for years; greatly diminished hearing; and an advanced case of Macular Degeneration which ultimately left her legally blind.

Those afflictions which greatly affected the quality of her physical existence were, nonetheless, no match for her indomitable spirit. Her ability – indeed, her NEED – to smile never waned and never wavered. She seemed to have the power to see through things that were negative about people around her and allowed her to see, and to focus, on the good that she believed resides in us all.

It puzzled me that she could find so much worth smiling about in a life fraught not only with the pain of her physical maladies, but also the internal pain that came from her knowledge that each of her children suffered in his, or her, own way.  She accepted the fact that there wasn’t much she could do most of the time, except offer her prayers to God. This is not to say that prayer is an insignificant thing, because it most assuredly is NOT, but it is simply a fact that, as parents, we feel the need to do something tangible, and something immediate, when our children are hurting.

Nonetheless, my Mother was teaching me something important through all of those years, but the lessons would not finally develop clarity for me until I discovered for myself exactly where her ability to ‘see’ things, the way she did, came from.

You see, my Mother’s relationship with God gave her the ability to see things through the ‘eyes’ of her heart. This concept, and this ability, would elude me for years. In fact, it would be sometime after her death, and would require a suicide attempt that was very nearly successful, and a trip to federal prison before I, too, became able to ‘see’ things the way that beautiful, blind woman could.

To that point, I had endured a lifetime of pain and suffering, and had inflicted much pain and suffering upon those around me, the least of whom was the one who gave me life. But my Mother always smiled for me, and she always saw what I failed to see for many years. Finally, a few years after her smile was just an important fond memory, I arrived at a place where I could begin to understand my Mother’s lessons. A place where I could begin to realize my own ability to smile, and to see the good in those around me and, more importantly, I could see the good in myself.

I can clearly recall the exact moment when I felt the first faint stirrings within me indicating that something was changing inside of me. It was shortly after arriving at Oakdale to begin my sentence and I had gone outside to walk around the concrete ‘track’ that comprised the outer boundary of the inmate-accessible portion of the recreation yard.

The track itself is a 1/3 mile loop of sorts; not an oval or a circle or any other recognizable geometric shape, but it does begin and end in the same place. The first segment is a straightaway about 450′ long that heads due east. The track then turns to the north in a long, sweeping curve. At this point, the ‘only’ barrier to freedom is the set of two very tall chain link fences along the outer perimeter that are topped with some decidedly unfriendly looking razor wire, although the razor wire does sparkle brilliantly in the bright Louisiana sunshine or under the powerful lights that illuminate the grounds at nightfall.

As I rounded that first curve on the track, I glanced up over the fence ahead of me and to the right. A few hundred feet away, and outside the fence, there are some warehouses, maintenance facilities and large outdoor refrigeration and freezer storage units that service the compound. My eyes were immediately drawn to what I saw rising above the fence from the middle of those buildings. I could see, silhouetted against the sky, the top portion of an old wooden power pole. My immediate thought was, “That looks just like a cross.” I smiled to myself as I rolled the thought around in my head that it would be rather special to know that from that day forward, for the duration of my stay at Oakdale, each time I came outside to walk I would be able to look up and be reminded of Jesus Christ. The comfort of that reminder of His presence was something I grasped onto hungrily, and eagerly. It was also something I would quickly grow to look forward to seeing each time I ventured out to ‘the yard’ to walk.

I felt a stirring within me and I knew that something significant had begun. I would come to learn that God had chosen that moment to allow the ‘eyes’ of MY heart to begin to open.

As I continued walking along the track, my ‘cross’ loomed a little larger at first, but as the perspective changed and I drew closer, it seemed to drop lower until it ‘disappeared’ below the top of the fence. I found joy in my new discovery and felt a strange warmth spread through me. Little did I know at that point, that what I had experienced was just the beginning of a ‘vision’ that would become complete a few days later while I was enjoying another walk.

On that particular day, as I passed the point where the ‘cross’ dropped out of sight, I kept looking at the spot where the power pole itself was located on the other side of the fence. After walking about 50 feet, a picture began to reveal itself to me, clearer with each additional step. When I reached a point that was directly south of the object of my interest, I stopped on the side of the track and stared at the completed picture. What I was looking at was not ONE ‘cross’, but THREE crosses. The power pole that had drawn my attention originally was flanked on either side by another, shorter power pole. From this vantage point, I could see through the fence and, with the eyes of my heart opening wider still, I realized that what I was looking at were the crosses upon which Christ, and the two men who were crucified with him, died.

OK…I knew that these were not THOSE crosses, but the vision I was looking at appeared the same as what I had seen in illustrations and it seemed as if I had stumbled upon my own, private “Golgotha”. I am fairly certain that most of the men looking through those two chain link fences would only see three older, wooden power poles with wires and transformers on them that serviced a bunch of metal buildings and outdoor refrigerators and freezers, but I saw something else entirely.

With the newly opened eyes of my heart, the fences became transparent and the transformers and power lines disappeared. What I DID see was Jesus Christ hanging from the center cross looking down at me. What I DID see was a man taking the burden of my sins, and the sins of every other person in the world, and replacing that burden with freedom.

With the eyes of my heart, I could see what had been missing in my life. I could see forgiveness for what I had done wrong and I could see what I needed to do to correct those things. I could see the pain that I caused others, and I could see the pain that others caused me, and I could see the pain in the eyes of Jesus as He implored me to give all of that pain to HIM.

I could see the look of suffering on His face as He relieved me of my burden, but at the same time, I could feel His joy at the knowledge that His suffering was not in vain.

Now, with the eyes of my heart wide open, I could see the future and the hope that had been promised to ME. I could see that I was now truly free to do the RIGHT thing, for the RIGHT reason, and in the RIGHT way. I was now free to rid my heart of the darkness that had filled it so completely for so many years and replace it with the light that comes with the unshakeable faith I now had that no matter where I might walk from that day forward, I would never be alone, I did not need to be afraid, and I would never be without purpose.

I began to realize that I was no longer in prison at all. In fact, from that moment forward, I was more free than I had ever been in my life.

In a way, I had come to look upon my Mother’s physical ailments and afflictions as having created a prison of sorts for her. Suddenly, though, I was able to see just how free she had always been because the eyes of HER heart had ALWAYS been open.

Freedom can be a beautiful and inspiring thing.

It can also reduce us to tears when we think about the price that Christ Jesus paid for it. For people like myself, who had used their freedom poorly, and in a selfish, self-serving, and self-indulgent manner, the instant that the eyes of our heart open wide can be a very humbling moment of shame, embarrassment, and sadness.

Fortunately for us, God smiles and says, “It’s alright”. His ONLY concern is that we all – each and every last one of us – allow Him to come into our hearts and open our eyes. NOTHING else matters to him. Not when. Not where. Not why.

For the last three years and four months, I have been reassured and comforted, encouraged and reinforced by what I see out there almost daily. Each time I walk the track, I always say prayers of thanks to the One who suffered so horribly and painfully so long ago in order that we can ALL be free from sin and the slavery that accompanies it and chains us to our own individual versions of prison.

Over the years, I have made it a habit to share what I see with the different people I have walked with. It has always been a desire of mine to share it with those who read these Chronicles, but the description alone seemed inadequate. I felt that some sort of picture was needed to properly convey the image that I see so frequently, but actual photographs are out of the question and I am less an artist than I am even a writer, so I have NOT shared.

Until now.

My friend Richard Roy, who has been aware of how special those ‘crosses’ are to me, spoke with another inmate whose artistic talents are considerably greater than mine. His name is Will Mattingly, and Richard asked him if he would try to draw what I ‘saw’ out there on the other side of the fences.

The three of us walked one day and I shared my vision with Will, who then spent considerable time out there sitting and drawing. A few weeks later, Will passed along his finished work which I named “Through The Eyes Of The Heart”.

I can now share my personal ‘Golgotha’ with all of you, thanks to Richard’s thoughtfulness, and Will’s talent:

Through the Eyes of the Heart 2

 

No, there is not really a hole in the fence, and in reality there are TWO fences about 10 feet apart separating ‘us’ from ‘you’, but I told Will that I wanted him to convey the impression that the eyes of a person’s heart can remove obstacles that stand between us and the freedom to see what God wants us to see, and to do the things that He wants us to do.

I believe Will accomplished exactly that.

And thanks to those two good men, not only am I able to share the image with all of you, I will now have this drawing to frame and hang on my wall when I leave here to remind me of the freedom that I was given during my time of physical imprisonment. I will also be reminded of the sacrifice of Jesus and the tremendous burden that He removed from my shoulders.

God has opened wide the eyes of my heart, and He can open YOURS as well. With our eyes wide open we can see many things we could not see before: We can see hope; we can see peace, happiness, joy, love, and forgiveness; we can see the goodness that lives and breathes all around us. And with our eyes wide open we can also see the hunger, the pain, the suffering, and the desperation of other people. But these are not bad things to see, because once our eyes are open, we can also see our place in God’s plan to HELP those who are afflicted. Seeing our place will allow us to take the action necessary to improve the condition of our brothers and sisters who are all God’s children.

And THIS, my friends, is freedom.

May God bless you all, and may He open WIDE the eyes of YOUR hearts.

“TODAY’S GIFT” by Tony Casson

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Time for another excerpt from the upcoming book, “Today Is….A Gift From God.” Today’s devotional is from May 22.

TODAY IS…

a terrific day to pray for others. 

“I urge you, brothers, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me.”  Romans 15:30 NIV

Prayer is a gift from God. It is the ability to communicate directly with Him and seek comfort, ask for help, and – hopefully – to give thanks to the One who makes so much of value available to us. It is an opportunity for reflection, and a way to ask for guidance and direction in our lives. Prayer is also the first place we should turn when we are confronted with temptation. And we will be confronted with temptation.

But prayer is also a great way to fulfill the Lord’s instruction that we love one another and look out for one another. We can accomplish this by using prayer for the benefit of others.

Asking God to help us heal in times of great sadness or sorrow is perfectly alright, but asking God to help someone else find the strength to deal with a terrible loss or tragedy is a great way to help someone at times when we may feel unable to do anything. God can get to places in a person’s heart that we cannot, and He loves to hear our voices imploring Him to help.

We also need to consider the many people throughout the world that we don’t even know who work tirelessly, sacrifice much, and risk their very lives to share the Word of God with others so that they may experience the joy of a life that has been changed by knowing, and accepting, Christ Jesus.

In their struggles to spread the Good News, these brave men and women need our prayers of support. Just as Paul reached out to those who believed in his day to pray in support of his struggle, we should all pray for the many thousands who continue that struggle today.

There are many good reasons to pray. Our personal problems are among them. But it is also a beautifully Christian thing to take time to pray for all who need God’s help.

*******

WHEN I TAKE TIME TO PRAY by Tony Casson

On By Tony CassonIn When I Take Time To PrayLeave a comment

What are the things that I get out of prayer?
What sort of gifts am I given?
The fact that I pray doesn’t make my life fair
And gives me no car to be driven.

The words that I pray do not pay what I owe,
The words that I speak can’t be spent.
I can’t use my prayers to buy flour to make dough,
And they cannot be used to pay rent.

The words that I pray won’t buy food to be eaten
And they won’t give me clothes to be worn,
But praying WILL help me to never be beaten,
And to sew up my heart when it’s torn.

Prayer will help me find ways to help others
And help me to face each new day.
It will help me view all those I meet as my brothers
And guide every word that I say.

My prayers will remind me to always be kind
And to greet with a smile those I meet.
They will help me to keep pleasant thoughts in my mind
And safeguard my soul from defeat.

My prayers will enable my spirit to rise
And will open my eyes so I see;
My prayers will help me at last realize
That the future holds hope out to me.

Prayers bring me closer to God, whom I love,
And they help me imagine His face.
With prayer I can see Him look down from above,
And with prayer I experience grace.

The glorious gifts that can be found when I pray
Cost me nothing, they’re given for free.
The chains that have bound me will just fall away
And the truth will be there before me.

Prayer gives my life it’s best chance for completion,
And carries me close to the One
Who saved every soul from Satan’s depletion
Through the death of His sacrificed Son.

My prayers won’t buy jewelry of silver or gold,
And they won’t make me famous, it’s true.
But praying will give me the strength to be bold
And to do those things God wants me to.

Prayer should be something we never forget
In the hustle of living each day;
How long the list is of the things that I get
When I make time in my life to pray.